


Junior's Jitterbug

by amosanguis



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established McDanno, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gen, Junior-centric, M/M, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 15:52:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Since Junior can't take care of his phone, Danny gives him one to practice with. It backfires.Alternatively: three times Junior escapes a conversation with his toddler phone and the one time he doesn't want to.





	Junior's Jitterbug

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this Tumblr post](https://beka-tiddalik.tumblr.com/post/180196642455/apparently-my-boss-who-is-a-professor-at-my-school) about the professor with the toddler phone.

-z-

 

Junior is sitting at the couch, his injured leg propped underneath a pillow, staring at the plastic package in his hands. Then he looks up at Danny, glancing at Steve who is standing just behind Danny, Steve’s arms crossed over his chest and his I Am A Very Serious Person face set firmly in place – except how Steve’s lips keep pursing, like he’s trying not to smile.

“Is this a joke?” Junior asks Danny.

Danny – who’s in full Dad Mode, who doesn’t need to fight off a smile like Steve is because he probably believes 100% in what he’s doing right now – _that_ Danny, just shakes his head, taking one of his hands out of his pockets to gesture with as he talks.

“Absolutely not,” Danny says. “If this was a joke I’d be laughing, wouldn’t I? But I’m not laughing – so, _no_ , Junior, this is not a joke—” Danny’s hand then flies up and he somehow manages to point at Steve without even turning around, or actually pointing at Steve “—and I swear to _god_ , Steven, if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face, you’re sleeping on the floor.”

Steve doesn’t even bother protesting, just looks down at the floor as he desperately tries to school his features into something appropriate for whatever exactly this situation was.

It felt like he was being chastised.

Junior looks down once more at the package and sighs because he realizes that he wasn’t _just_ being chastised – he was _being taught a lesson_.

“Steve’s gonna buy you another phone once you’ve shown you’re responsible with this one,” Danny says, plucking the package out of Junior’s hand before retreating towards the study, and withdrawing a pair of scissors from a drawer – makes quick work of the plastic package.

“You know I can buy my own phone, right?” Junior tries.

“We’ll add you to the family plan,” Steve says to Junior, though his eyes are on Danny, tracking Danny as he moves back into the living room to once more stand in front of Junior.

“Look,” Danny says, “you take care of this thing and we’ll even let you pick out which phone you want.” Danny punctuates his sentence by (carefully) slapping the product of the package into Junior’s hand—

Junior looks down at the colorful piece of plastic in his hands.

A toy cell phone.

For a toddler.

Junior sighs.

 

-x-

 

Tani’s still pestering him about spending most of his day last week at the foot of the cliff. She calls him names like “Junior Missed-Step” which doesn’t make any sense to Junior himself, but they make Tani chuckle herself silly, so he just shakes his head and goes along with the teasing.

The thing though is that Tani’s been going _all day_. So, when Junior shifts on Tani’s office couch, his laptop and files balance precariously in his lap, he feels a certain piece of plastic sitting in the pocket of his jeans and he remembers his “cell phone” – after that, he can’t help what he does next. And what he does next is this—

Junior puts his hand casually into his pocket and randomly presses a number. And there’s just this beautiful moment where Tani jumps at the blaring sounds of a group of kids singing: “ _B-I-NGO! B-I-NGO! B-I-NGO—"_

Junior then pulls out the “ringing” phone and looks at Tani apologetically, “Sorry, Tani,” he says, standing as the kids continue to sing “ _—AND BINGO WAS HIS NAME-O_ ” as he begins to limp towards the door of Tani’s office, “I’ve gotta take this.”

Tani’s wide eyes follow Junior all the way out.

 

-x-

 

Junior loves Steve and Danny – really and truly, he does.

They’ve taken him into their home, no questions asked, nothing demanded except that he help out with chores and with Eddie and, if he’s the first one awake, to start the coffee and maybe make breakfast. Well. Unless Steve has not so subtly set out stuff for pancakes – his way of “asking” Danny for pancakes, the success rate of which was hovering at a steady 40% because, as Danny puts it, he doesn’t want to encourage Steve not using his words. But that 40% is 40% because sometimes Danny’s the first one who makes it into the kitchen and, well, all the stuff’s out anyway.

Pancake mornings were always special.

Junior and Steve always tried to get their morning workouts in and done as soon as Danny confirmed that he would indeed be making pancakes. They’d go swimming, then for a shortened run, and by the time they were racing each other into the house, sweaty and grinning wide, the house would smell so enticingly of food – and immediately they could see that Danny had already piled the dining room table with bacon and eggs and toast and, of course, pancakes.

They would always try to sneak in and steal pieces of bacon and toast before Danny would chase them from the kitchen – yelling at them for dripping sweat everywhere. To which Steve would always respond the same way: grabbing Danny around the middle and peppering him with these ridiculously loud and sloppy kisses as Danny slapped him with whatever cooking utensil he had in hand.

Junior always used their distraction with each other to nab another piece of bacon and dart for the shower, getting as much of the hot water as he could before Steve realized what he was up to.

Then, when everyone was clean and sat at the table, they’d eat.

Sometimes there was no conversation, but most of the time the room was filled with a light-hearted bickering – something it’d taken Junior a few days to realize wasn’t just the way Steve and Danny communicated, it was the way they told each other – over and over and over – “I love you.” Of course, they did that the old-fashioned way, too, by using the actual words and everything, but every couple has a song – and theirs was to the tune of flicks to the ear and “babe, I swear to _god_ —” and “Danno, I know but—"

There was just something comforting about their back-and-forth, a solidness there that Junior found he could lean on. It was steady and reliable. It let him know that everything was okay.

What _wasn’t_ okay was when they brought him into it – when they asked Junior to take sides.

Like what was happening right now with the whole of the team gathered around the tech table. Lou and Adam were standing there looking bored, Jerry wasn’t paying much attention as he continued to tap away at the screen, and Tani was staring at Steve and Danny with a sort of glazed look in her eye. And Danny was gesturing wildly with his hands about Steve’s audacity to comment on—

Junior looked down, his eyes squinting in thought as he tried to remember the point of the argument.

—then Danny’s hand suddenly lands on Junior’s arm, getting Junior’s attention.

“Tell him that I’m right,” Danny is saying when Junior looks up at him.

Junior’s head immediately swivels to look at Steve and Steve just crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows at Junior expectantly – everything about Steve’s stance is screaming _Teams Guy For Life_ and _Don’t You Dare Let Me Down, Kid_ and Junior is suddenly very, very sweaty.

Junior goes to rub his palms on his pants, looking nervously between Steve and Danny, when he feels his “phone” in his pocket. Once again, he just _acts_ – sticking his hand in his pocket and pressing a random button.

Suddenly, a kid is singing about rowing his boat gently down the stream and Junior is backing quickly away from Steve and Danny, pulling the phone from his pocket.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “so, so sorry, guys, I gotta take this.”

“Are you for real—” Danny starts.

“It’s important,” Junior calls over his shoulder as he retreats into the hallway and jogs towards the elevator.

 

-

 

Junior’s had his toy phone for two weeks before Danny sets a box – wrapped with a bow and everything – down in front of him right after Steve’s cleared away their dinner plates. They haven’t quite let Junior live down his hasty exit, but Junior finds he doesn’t mind the teasing too much.

Inside the box is a new phone – a real one, this time – and Danny assures him over and over that Junior won’t owe them a cent aside from his third of the bill, that the phone had come with the upgrade in the plan. And there’s a part of Junior that isn’t quite sure how he feels about all of this – about how Steve and Danny have just gone so far out of their way for him. Some of that must show on his face, too, because, before he knows it, Steve’s got his arm around Junior’s neck in a half-hug, half-wrestling hold, and he’s yelling at Junior—

“Stop thinking so much, June, damn, let us take care of you.”

And Junior can’t help but laugh even as he’s wrestled out of the chair, catching out of the corner of his eye Danny leaning against the wall with a fond look on his face – then Junior turns all his attention back to Steve and trying to break the hold.

 

-x-

 

Just because he’s got a real phone again, doesn’t mean Junior has given up the toy. In the span of the two weeks he had faithfully carried the thing around it’s weight and feel had become familiar. So familiar that Junior had left it in the house once, the toy sitting on his dresser, just to turn around and come back again to grab it.

And later, when it’s just Junior and Lou and Jerry at HQ, going over video data and fighting desperately against nodding off, Junior’s thankful he has the toy. Lou’s way of keeping himself awake was similar to Danny’s: Lou talked. And since Junior was the one standing closest to Lou, it was Junior that Lou directed all his conversation towards.

And while most days Junior would enjoy the way Lou’s Chicago accent thickened as Lou wound himself up, he doesn’t know if he can really stand another minute of Lou listing the pros and cons of whatever the last golf course was Lou had been too.

Junior decides, _what the hell_ , and gives his escape trick another go – he reaches into his pocket and presses a button.

Instead of kids, the sound of a woman sings at him from his pocket: _hush, little baby, don’t say a word—_

Lou stops himself mid-sentence, his head slowly swiveling to stare at Junior, who was backing away from the table – ignoring the soft snort-chuckling coming from Jerry.

“Sorry, Lou,” Junior starts.

“Boy, you better not—”

“I gotta take this,” Junior finishes, quickly pushing through the door and out into the hallway.

 

-

 

Junior brings back coffee and malasadas and Lou doesn’t talk to him again until he’s had his fill of both. Junior accepts his punishment with silence, sharing conspiratorial looks with Jerry the whole time.

 

-x-

 

Junior continues to make a habit of excusing himself with his toy phone – ducking out of awkward or boring conversations to the various tunes of children’s songs. He and Danny even catch Steve humming _Mary Had A Little Lamb_ after Junior had used it to run out on dish duty earlier that morning.

It’s a slow day at the office, as rare and pleasant an occurrence as the sighting of a unicorn would be should such things exist, and Junior’s taking advantage of it to catch up on paperwork. He’s set up on the couch in Danny’s office, only looking up occasionally to ask Danny a question.

Junior doesn’t have his own office so when he needs to get paperwork done, he tends to couch surf. He and Tani had been officemates for a while there, but she rarely had the answers he needed.

He tried Steve’s office, but the man’s couch was horrifyingly uncomfortable and Steve himself did paperwork the same way he did everything else – with an air of intensity that Junior couldn’t bring himself to interrupt.

So, he often found himself in Danny’s office. Danny worked quietly, muttering to himself and occasionally picking up his cell phone to call over to Steve – who would be working in his own office just _feet_ away – to either check a detail in a report or yell about how Steve’s aggressive tactics were wearing on even Danny’s vocabulary. Then he’d hang up and share a commiserating look with Junior and say stuff like—

“I know I bitch, but at least he’s not hanging people off rooftops anymore.”

—or—

“The shark cage was one time, but if I ever let him forget that I disapprove – he’ll think he can do it again.”

—and sometimes all Junior wants is to shove all his paperwork to the side and _beg_ Danny for stories – all of them – starting from their first day. Because he just, he _needs_ to know.

But today, all Junior does is chuckle and shake his head, before returning to the file for when Jerry had gone undercover. He’d already added everything he needed to from his end and all it needed was a final review from either Steve or Danny. Junior tells Danny just that as he sends the file to him.

Danny nods, glances down to his computer screen as he receives the file.

Then Junior is standing and stretching his arms up and towards the ceiling, making joints pop and crack in a way that Junior thinks he’ll have to worry about in a few more years. He leaves Danny’s office and runs right into Jerry.

“What’re you up to?” Junior asks.

Jerry’s eyes immediately light up and he starts rapidly listing the fascinating evidence he just found of a Hawaiian demigod. The words are spilling out of him like the rapid-fire spray of an automatic rifle and Junior’s hand instinctively clutches around the plastic toy phone in his pocket.

But he never presses a button.

Instead he nods along, finds himself listening and asking questions and, later, when he’s bent in close to the paper files Jerry’s spread out on the tech table, Junior catches himself smiling goofily at Jerry – who’s just so bright and animated and excited.

And nothing, nothing at all, could make Junior want to leave this conversation.

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
